


Passing in the Night

by Emeraldwolf



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Winterhawk focused, a little explicitness at the end so rated for safety, non-specific Avengers universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldwolf/pseuds/Emeraldwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being in a relationship when you're a busy Avenger makes it difficult to find some time to be alone. Clint and Bucky are quickly figuring this out. </p><p>Written for the Winterhawk Fic Exchange 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passing in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentsoffitzsimmons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentsoffitzsimmons/gifts).



Story Prompts or Requests:

“One has been gone for a very long time and is surprising the other by coming home a little bit earlier than planned!”

Went off of this idea. Hopefully it’s still close enough to the prompt!

 

* * *

 

Clint leans back, trying to rest his head on the quinjet seat’s headrest. But the vibration of flying rattles against his skull painfully and he pulls up again.

Tired or otherwise, there’s no way he’ll be able to get any real rest with that incessant buzzing. In his distress, he must have sighed aloud, for Sam glances up at him from the seat across the way.  
  
“What’s wrong there Hawkeye? Adrenaline wear off already?”

“Adrenaline is overrated,” Clint grumbles out.

Their mission may have been a success but Clint honestly could care less about the stolen tech, or the villain they had shut down. He just wants to get home, get some sleep, and if he was lucky, maybe get some.

Not necessarily in that order.

“Any word from our better halves?”  
  
Sam quirks an eyebrow at that. He looks down at his phone, before shaking his head sadly.

“Sorry. Still no word. You know, the same as when you asked three minutes ago.”

Clint slides down, stretching his boots out front of himself. He wishes again that he could ignore the constant vibrating in the jet and take this time for a nap. Then he’d be full of energy and ready for some fun whenever Bucky and the rest of the team return from their own missions.

But sometimes luck wasn’t with Clint.

In fact, much of the time it wasn’t.

He must have succeeded in nodding off at some point. But if so it was only just long enough for his chin to meet his chest, and his head to snap back up, resulting in his head cracking loudly against the hard headrest.

Sam unbuckles his belt and stands up, loudly cracking his back. He heads up to the front of the quinjet, and Clint can overhear him calling ahead to Avengers Tower to let them know that they would be coming in for a landing.

“So-“ Clint begins before Sam cuts him off.

“No, they’re not back yet. Jeez man, I’m excited to see Steve when he gets back, but you act like you and Bucky have been apart for weeks. It’s been a couple of days,” Sam glances down at the clock on his phone. “Time to relax a little.”

Clint glares back before deciding he should be the bigger man in the argument with his fine feathered friend.

Then he decides to throw that idea out the window, instead reaching up and removing his purple hearing aids from behind his ears. Meeting eyes with Sam, he smirks as he drops the aids into a pouch on his belt.  
  
He can’t hear it, but he can see Sam laughing at his childish reaction. Clint doesn’t give two shits. He’s tired and misses his cybernetic assassin boyfriend. He returns to his futile attempts at napping/resting/relaxing in an uncomfortable quinjet seat while bouncing through the sky. After a short while of ignoring the world around him, he shifts forward in his seat enough to look out the cockpit window, and sees the familiar skyline of New York finally greeting them. There’s a light dusting of December snow on the skyscraper roofs.

After the jet lands, Clint and Sam wander their way into the tower living room. It’s obviously a living room built by Tony Stark, as it has a bar, multiple pieces of workout equipment, and musical instruments randomly spread about. It’s those little Stark things that Clint has come to associate with ‘home’.

Even without his aids in, Clint hears a slight sound coming from the area of the bar. Thor’s voice is deep and strong enough to carry quite a bit. He misses the beginning as Thor is standing from where he was apparently grabbing some new glasses from behind the bar, but picks up on the last part of the sentence.

“Welcome back friends! I hope your mission was a success!”

Sam responds, but since he’s turning towards where Thor is, Clint misses the answer completely. He glances around, taking in the rest of the room’s occupants for tonight.  
  
Jane is sitting at a bar stool, smiling and instructing Thor on the exact science of whatever drink she’s trying to get him to prepare for her. Pepper is sitting in a chair reading a newspaper, sipping on a drink as well. Tony seems to be absent, but Clint just figures he’s probably in his lab or working on a car in the garage. He’ll take the peace and quiet while it lasts and enjoy it.

“I’m going to go get cleaned up. Let me know when the others get back,” He says, and hopes it wasn’t too loud. His sense of volume can get really screwed up when he takes his hearing aids out.

Clint doesn’t even turn around to see the reactions of his comrades as he punches the button for the elevator. It arrives, announced by the blinking red light above the door. The doors open to reveal Bruce and Tony, hunched over a hologram, deep in a discussion about something.  
  
They don’t even notice Clint as they exit the elevator, still taking turns pointing to different parts of the hologram, zooming in and out and spinning the display around to different angles. With the geniuses gone, he barely slips through the doors of the elevator before they close.

Clint slumps heavily back against the wall of the elevator, unbothered by the quiver sticking him awkwardly in his back. His body feels like a ton of lead, and now that he’s run the gamut of the rest of the Avengers, he can let his exhaustion out without restraint. Showing his pain or exhaustion always makes him feel like it brings his absolutely non-super powered status into the light, and that is something he honestly does not need reminding of at any time.

The numbers along the side of the door finally count down to his floor of the tower, and Clint peels himself off the wall to stumble down the hallway. He drops his bow, then pulls the strap of his quiver over his head and drops that as well.  
  
Somewhere he knows that any number of his handlers would cringe at his treatment of his gear tonight. But he is just not fucking up for it. After a few hours of sleep he’ll take proper care of his stuff. But until then, he’ll be lucky if he finds the strength to unlace his boots before going to sleep.

The door to his bedroom is open, and he walks in, bending over to see if he does indeed have the strength left in him to get the damned things off before he collapses on his bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the nearest part of his blanket pull up slightly.

Exhaustion vanishes as the adrenaline comes racing back and he snaps up, knife in hand from his belt, and reaches out, flicking the light on.

Bucky is in his bed, unflinching despite the sudden bright light Clint has just inflicted on him. His mouth starts moving, but Clint is too busy trying to determine if he’s about to have a heart attack or not to catch the words.

“Hold on. Let me put my ears back in,” He returns the knife to its sheath on his belt and digs out the hearing aids.

“I said; I tried calling to you when you came in the door.”  
  
Bucky smirks at him, tilting his head a little to the side in the way that he must know is charming as hell. And Clint was just about to get his heart rate going back to normal, but no, now he has to deal with this.  
  
His eyes skate down from Bucky’s all too distracting smile to his bare chest, back propped up against the headboard, down to his navel where a trail of dark hair disappears under a sheet. A single thin sheet that is draped just low enough to be seductive without being completely indecent.  
  
Clint’s mouth goes a little drier, and he tries to swallow and clear the problem.  
  
“When did you get back?” He winces at the slightly higher pitch his voice comes out as. Clint decides to thoroughly blame it on the adrenaline rush.  
  
Bucky shifts, and oh dear God, the sheet slides a little bit lower. His legs are spread out in a v-shape in front of him, and the slight movement has caused the sheet to settle more between his legs. Outlining his strong thick thighs, and doing little to hide the partial erection Clint can see forming.

“We’ve been back for a while. Cap called Sam and let him know. Kind of assumed he told you.”

There are words Clint could use right now, but settles instead for a frustrated growl and a muttered “Sam”.  
  
Bucky laughs at his reaction, before bringing his hands above his head and stretching, as if he had just woken up. His muscles pull and tense, his eyes drop half closed as he levels his gaze at Clint, just in case there was any doubt in the archer’s mind that this was a show meant to entice him, and not just a regular case of stiff post-mission muscles.

Clint reassesses his boots and manages to extract himself from them in record time. A throaty chuckle from the bed spurs him on as his belt and shirt follow. Before his hands even reach his fly, a set of metal fingers press against his abs, sliding down and hooking into the front of his pants.

His thighs hit the end of the bed and before he can crawl up onto the mattress, Bucky manhandles him straight up onto the bed and into a fierce kiss.

The smooth frigid fingers at his waist wiggle their way a few inches farther into his pants and Clint lets out a highly undignified groan.

Followed by a very unsexy yawn. Bucky pulls back and strikes a concerned face.

“Sorry, just, rough mission,” another yawn breaks in. “And didn’t get a lot of sleep on the way back.”  
  
The third yawn seems to seal the deal as Bucky removes his hand, causing a sad grunt from the sleepy blond on top of him. The fearsome Winter Soldier shifts Clint onto his back on the bed, drawing a sheet up over him, and tucking himself into his side.

“Your reputation would be,” yawn, “so screwed right now if anyone saw you like this.”

Bucky grunts at Clint’s snark, reaching up with his metal hand to grasp Clint’s jaw and press a whisper soft kiss to his lips.

“Good thing it’s just you.”

“I’m sorry I’m too tired, you obviously had some plans,” Clint whispers as his eyes draw shut, then flare open, then drift closed again. He can barely stay awake.

“It’s alright,” Bucky says with a laugh. He leans up, letting his lips graze Clint’s ear. “You can make it up to me next time.”

Clint groans and almost finds the strength to stay awake, but settles for stretching an arm under Bucky’s head, careful not to tug at his hair, and letting out a long sigh as he falls immediately into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

“So, you seem to be feeling unusually charitable today. Has the Christmas spirit gotten into you?” Cap jokes as he and Hawkeye walk the perimeter of their latest villain beat down, getting some good publicity in.

“I’m hurt Cap,” Clint fakes a stricken expression, “For you to think that I’m only kind to my adoring fans because of the time of year. Tsk tsk.”

Captain America rolls his eyes at the phrase ‘adoring fans’, but continues along a line of people waiting to get autographs or selfies with him.  
  
Clint does the same, while secretly prolonging their time here on the ground as much as possible. It had been another week since he last saw Bucky, right as he was falling asleep next to him. Then a sudden and unexpected resurgence in villainy right before the holidays dragged them all off on separate missions. He had happened to cross paths with Steve, and together they joined up and finished off some lingering world-conquering in record time.

Which did nothing to help out Hawkeye. Waking up in the morning to an empty bed after falling asleep right in the middle of an amorous moment wasn’t exactly pleasant. The only redeeming part of the morning was when he found a post-it note attached to his bow. In Bucky’s familiar handwriting was a small scribble.

_Sorry last night didn’t work out. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back. With a surprise._ _J_

Clint knew he should have interfered when Natasha wanted to explain emoticons to Bucky, but now he simply had to deal with adorably hand drawn icons in his love notes. Just another quirk that comes with dating the Winter Soldier.  
  
“Are you ready to leave yet? I kind of want to get back soon,” Steve trails off, signing a toddler’s plastic shield as he gives Clint an impatient stare.  
  
“Almost Cap. I promise. Just a few more. Come on, it’s almost Christmas!”  
  
He was fairly certain he could hear Captain America groan over the sound of the crowd. But he was not going to give in. He was not heading back to the tower until Bucky checked in.

Half an hour of delaying later, Clint was sure Steve was going to pick him up, throw him over a shoulder in a fireman carry, and drag his sorry archer ass back to Avengers Tower, whether he wanted to go or not.

Luckily before it got that desperate, he decided that he had given Bucky ample time to return to his apartment and prepare whatever surprise was waiting for him. Together, he and Steve hop on their skycycles and fly to the tower. Steve had been putting on his smile for so long by that point that Clint wondered how his muscles weren’t sore. He chalked it up to super soldier serum.

Laughing to himself, Hawkeye rides off with visions of a certain sugar plum soldier dancing in his head. He couldn’t stop imagining what surprise may be waiting for him. He feels like a kid the night before Christmas.  
  
Making record time back to the tower, Clint crashes through the living room door, and makes a b-line for the elevator.  
  
He is vaguely aware of Sam, Vision, and Wanda sitting down discussing something. Although he is desperate to get to his apartment to see if his patience has paid off, Clint is still an Avenger. And he takes his job seriously.  
  
Looking at the other three in the living room, he puts his powers of observation to work. They’re all wearing some form of relaxed loungewear, pajamas, or whatever Vision feels like wearing that would pass for such things on him.  
  
Well, that’s enough of that. If the world or galaxy or universe were in danger, Wanda would not be wearing her house slippers.  
  
“Hi guys! Bye guys!”

The others wave to him, except for Vision who merely watches as Clint speed walks past them.  
  
“Your boy got back a few hours ago, said he’d be in your room!” Sam calls out from behind him as Clint throws himself into the elevator, jamming the button with his floor’s number on it over and over, as if it will somehow make his descent go faster.

The elevator doors have barely begun to open as Clint forces himself through and runs full speed down the hall, bedroom in his sights.  
  
He slides to a stop just in front of his door and busts through, ready for something incredible. A naked Bucky sprawled across his bed. Bucky in lingerie. Bucky tied up and blindfolded to his bed, but in a sexy way.

A pizza box sits on his bed, along with a DVD and what Clint knows with a sinking feeling in his stomach is a post-it note stuck to the top of the pile. He pulls up the DVD case with the note attached. He can see the words “Dog Cops: Season 1” printed on the spine. The case is warm on the bottom where it has been resting on the pizza box.

Bucky must have just left for it to still be so warm.

_Emergency. Enjoy your surprise._

Clint sighs dramatically and flings himself onto the bed. He smacks the back of his head on the wooden headboard.

“Ouch.”

 

* * *

 

“Clint!” Cap shouts at him, a fraction of a second too late.

Hawkeye feels the impact on the side of his head, and cries out as he loses his balance and falls to the hot asphalt.

As a ten year old apologizes and runs off to collect the rogue basketball, Clint laughs and waves off the other concerned kids. He stands up, brushing himself off, and levels a glare at his so-called friend Steve Rogers. Who had definitely laughed as he was knocked in the head during their little game.

“Not funny.”

“Oh come on,” Steve grins back, “You’re supposed to be the sense of humor on this team. You have to admit that was pretty funny.”

The super soldier dribbles the ball and pretends to have trouble getting around the defense of a black haired twig of a girl. She giggles and steals the ball from him, to which Steve pretends to be well and truly overcome by her intense basketball skills.  
  
Clint was not going to even pretend that he could stay mad at Steve right now. Not during their Make-A-Wish basketball game day. He motions for a pass, but instead of taking the shot starts spinning the ball on the tip of a finger, much to the amusement of the little guy who had hit him with the unfortunate air ball. After all, making every shot without trying was starting to get boring.

“Alright kids, lunch time!” A chaperone shouts from nearby, resulting in a small stampede in the direction of a red and white checkered tablecloth covered in sandwiches, orange slices, and all sorts of other healthy snacks.

Steve snags two water bottles, offering one to Clint as they take advantage of the short break.

“So, you’ve been a little distracted today, huh?”

Clint finishes his swig of water before letting out a heavy sigh through his nose. Steve’s grin just grows.

“That obvious. It’s been a trying couple of weeks. Month really. You know how it is…”

He trails off. This is weird. He and Steve had always been good friends and great team mates. But talking personal lives wasn’t really something he was used to. Especially now that his personal life involved a substantial amount of Bucky. Just felt bizarre to Clint to talk about it with Steve.

“Yeah, I know how it is. But can I say something, as the official expert observer of relationships involving one James Buchannan Barnes?”  
  
Clint stops with his water bottle attached to his mouth, eyes going wide to stare at Steve half in disbelief and half in horror of what might follow.

Cap’s heavy hand claps onto his shoulder, “You’ve got it bad, pal.”

The laugh sneaks out of Clint before he can stop it.

“Hey Steve!”

The two turn to see Sam walking into the court. The kids notice as well, as cries of “It’s the Falcon!” and “Falcon’s here too??” erupt from the picnic table.

Sam smiles that bright grin, and Clint’s eyes are, as always, sharp enough to catch the change to Steve’s expression as his partner approaches. Puppy dog eyes are really the only term for it as far as Clint can see, as un-super hero like as it sounds.

“You, head on back. Sam’s going to take your place for the rest of the afternoon,” Steve turns to Sam, “I’m assuming this means Bucky is back at the tower right?”

“I told him that if he tried to leave his floor I’d get Natasha to hide all his boots and replace them with flip flops again.”

Clint thinks that Cap says something in the way of goodbye. Maybe Sam too. Who knows? He’s too busy revving up the skycycle and taking off at maximum speed for the tower.  
  
He manages not to crash on his landing, and is flying up the stairs to his floor, not trusting the speed of the elevator.

He bursts through the door to Bucky’s floor and comes up with his nose pressed into the barrel of a gun.

“Fuck, Clint. Don’t do that,” the gun is withdrawn and the safety clicked on. Bucky slides it into the holster on his back and looks over Clint, raising an eyebrow at his purple Nikes and matching gym shorts.

“Sorry, just wanted to get back as soon as possible. Cap gave me the day off, didn’t want to waste a minute.”

Bucky’s lips twitch into the barest smirk. He brings his hands up, and slowly begins to peel his gloves off. He is still head to toe in his tac gear, and is taking his sweet time getting just his gloves off.

“You know what,” Clint says, stepping forward and reaching out to get a hold of the front of Bucky’s tac vest. “Lemme help you with that or we’re going to be here all day…”

His hands swiftly start unbuckling and unbuttoning everything they can reach. Bucky is content to stand and watch the archer’s agile hands working their way through his clothes. Once his vest and top are off, he reaches out and grabs hold of the bottom of the tanktop Clint is wearing.

His fingers drag with barely there touches as he removes the top. Clint shivers as they graze his ribs. While the top is passing over his face Bucky pauses, letting it cover his eyes and trap his arms sticking straight above his head.

With his eyes covered, he has to feel for the moment when a wall of heat closes in on him, and opens his mouth in expectation as Bucky seals them with his own in a frantic kiss.

His body follows, pressing Clint backwards step after step until he feels the couch against the back of his knees. Bucky takes a moment to rip away the makeshift blindfold and Clint takes advantage of his freedom, burying his hands into his lover’s long tangled hair.

Sinking down onto the couch, Clint crushes their lips together, dipping his tongue into Bucky’s mouth as he pulls him on down on top of himself.

The soldier lets out a pleased growl as he mounts himself on top of Clint’s prone body. He breaks the kiss and trails his lips to the other’s ear. Careful not to dislodge the hearing aid, he flicks his tongue out to gather up Clint’s earlobe and gently nibble at it.

A keening sound comes from Clint’s throat, and honestly he is not even concerned enough to be embarrassed. He’s got a thing about his ears okay. Everyone’s got their buttons to be pushed.

His hands find their way to Bucky’s hips, digging into his hip bones with a firm grip and pulling him down flush against him, wanting to encourage the man above him to grind down. He’s not sure what it is, but after seeing him in his Winter Soldier gear, Clint’s always in the mood for a little rough and tumble.

Bucky obliges and begins making small, firm thrusts down with his hips, his rough tactical pants rubbing straight through Clint’s flimsy gym shorts and spiking arousal through his whole body. Clint shudders as the warmth radiates out from his cock as it pulses to life.

“Missed you,” he whispers through the hair that is hanging in between his mouth and Bucky’s ear. He pulls back at this whisper, those fierce blue eyes locking with Clint’s.

Bucky pauses and swallows, before giving a small nod. Clint knows that words can be tough for him still. Not when he’s making jokes with the team, catching up with Cap, or tossing snarky comments to Tony. But here, when there’s no sounds but their breaths and moans, he has a habit of clamming up.

Which makes it all the more thrilling when he reaches up, gripping Clint by the chin as he kisses him, hard and wanton, teeth nipping and lips sucking on each other. He knows what it means. In this intimate language they’ve just started speaking to each other.

His flesh hand drags down Clint’s ribs, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake. It sneaks down straight under Clint’s shorts and his briefs. He pants into Bucky’s mouth once, breaking off the kiss as he feels his cock taken in a calloused, rough hand. But the strokes are gentle and teasing, and have Clint making more of that noise that he’ll never admit and take responsibility for.

Cool air takes place of warm flesh as Bucky sits up and slides down the couch, ripping Clint’s shorts and underwear off and tossing them to the floor, before bending over Clint’s waist and sending up a devilish grin.

His tongue makes quick work while Clint throws an arm over his eyes and tries to keep from looking down. He wants to enjoy this and last longer than a minute.

But it’s been a while, and Clint’s self restraint isn’t that great. He peeks out from under his forearm and gets one good look at Bucky’s head bobbing up and down over his erection, shaggy hair covering much of his face but not obscuring one of those icy blue eyes that are staring up at him.

Clint comes so hard he doesn’t remember if he said anything. Usually he ends up the talker of this relationship, but everything seemed to just fade to white noise as his body peaks and gradually turns into a boneless happy blob. Somewhere in his peripheral vision he sees Bucky pick up his underwear and spit into it before using it to wipe his mouth and clean up Clint’s cock.

He’s sensitive as his body comes down, and he can’t help but flinch away from Bucky’s hand as he dries him off. The fucking masochist that his boyfriend can be sometimes, Bucky just grins and finishes the job, obviously enjoying the squirm he manages to get out of Clint as he brushes against his over sensitized cock.

“So I have to ask,” Clint begins.

Bucky is unlacing his boots, and brings up a hand to adjust his own erection to a more comfortable spot as he tries to free himself of his remaining clothes. He glances up to Clint though and cocks his head to the side in question.

“Was the pizza and Dog Cops the whole surprise? ‘Cause, I mean, it’s totally fine if it was. I loved it. Just, you know, wondering if that was the whole plan…” he trails off.

Bucky steps out of his boots, unzips his pants and shucks them off. He grabs Clint’s hand, pulling him off the couch and pressing Clint’s palm to his own hard on.

The soldier leans in ever so slightly, lips grazing Clint’s other ear, “Take me to the bedroom, and maybe you’ll find out,” he growls out in challenge.

Clint just grins before manhandling his cybernetic assassin boyfriend in the direction of a bed and a well earned surprise.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> So the basketball scene was inspired by my re-reading some Civil War ear comics and finding a scene where Steve is telling the Secret Avengers that he’s upset to be missing a basketball game with a Make-A-Wish kid because of going underground to escape the cape killers after the Registration Act. Just thought that was incredibly adorable and should somehow end up in here.
> 
> Yay for fun Winterhawk times. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy agentsoffitzsimmons!


End file.
